


A Tale

by TheNako



Category: The Book of Mormon - Ambiguous Fandom, The Book of Mormon - Parker/Stone/Lopez
Genre: Abuse, Connor's life sucks, M/M, One dancing fish, and a teeny tiny band, son with terrible parents, teeny tiny meaning "no"
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-02-28 17:24:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13276290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheNako/pseuds/TheNako
Summary: Once upon a time, there was a nice piece of land. On it was a nice manor. In the manor there was a tower, and in it was a little boy. Inside of the little boy was a burning hate for his life.Until everything changed.But the hate part comes back often.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by an old Japanese folk tale and my restless imagination that keeps me up at night thinking of new ways to hurt Connor.
> 
> Warnings:  
> Connor's original name is Henry don't ask me why  
> IT JUST IS
> 
> Nobody from the canon (except Connor) shows up for a while.
> 
> Happy reading (I hope)!

Most creatures have a tail.

Elephants. Dogs. Mice. Sheep. Alligators. Dolphins.

However, some creatures have tails that cannot be seen. They have tales rather than tails.

This, my friends, is what differentiates us from most other animals.

A tale.

This story that I am about to tell you is not a love story. Nor is it an adventure story. It is not a story about murder, either.

It is a combination of all.

Why? Because this story is the story of a man’s life, and a life can't be categorized into one happy category. Because this story is not a story at all, but a tale.

Now, let us stop with this old man’s bumbling and start on this man’s remarkable tale.

Connor McKinley.

Shall we?

We will start at the very tip of the tale, as all tales start.

Once upon a time …

 


	2. Henry Is Born And People's Lives Are Ruined.

 The thing that everybody noticed first was his hair.

“Well!”

It was beautiful, really. But that wasn't what made people exclaim out loud.

Henry Smith had popped out with a head full of hair, and it was red. Every little fine strand of it was perfectly copper.

Now, that wouldn't have been an issue. No, it would have been a non-important little detail, something that would have led to a cute little “Ooh, look! He has red hair just like you!” “Oh, but he has your nose, honey!” kind of conversations that new parents have when they are absolutely high on the fact that their child, yes their _child_ , is finally here.

Should have.

No, when little Henry, still innocent and with hope for the world, popped out of his mother screaming his lungs out, he was met with an “Oh _no_.” from his mother.

The husband was, bless him, still blissfully ignorant at that point.

The mother hoped it was just the blood. Her small shred of hope was dashed against the rocky walls of fact, however, when the baby was fully washed by the midwife and handed to her arms, when she could see that he was definitely a natural redhead.

The husband gave a startled noise. He wasn't the smartest man you would ever meet, but he was not simple, and he could tell something was wrong.

He was a brownhead. Or a brownie, or whatever they call people with brown hair.

The mother was a blond.

Nobody in either of their families had ever had red hair. (He knew that for a fact because he hated red hair with a passion and had looked up both of their family trees upon engagement to make sure there was no chance of them having a, gods forbid, a redhead.)

Oh. _Oh_.

He had _known_ that it was a mistake to announce the pregnancy to the entire town.

He felt anger pulse through his veins. He had tolerated her, with her expensive makeup and wigs and dresses, but this? This was absolutely intolerable.

And yet, he knew it had to be tolerated, if for the sake of saving their families' name. After all, they would be disgraced, one being the slutty woman, the other being the simple husband that let her.

Quickly, he ran through what would happen depending on what he could decide to do. He could throw her out, but that would be an absolute nightmare trying to deal with all the bad publicity. Somehow, the people always seemed to be swayed toward the girl, with their tendencies toward unhappy romances and such. He had learned that lesson from a friend. A friend, now, who was now living in the streets due to a strike that the wife, now ex-wife, started with the support of the peasants.

He shuddered. Then, of course, the best course of action would be to get rid of them both. It would be an easy job, after all. A young woman, still tired of childbirth, and a not-even-a-day-old infant. He could probably find one for the job cheap.

He was just about to call for a messenger, when he noticed the midwife still there.

Shit.

He never cursed, but everything had an exception. Of course there had to be someone to witness the birth of this … this abnomination.

The story of the lady’s child and his hair would be out in no time.

He thought quickly, and unsheathed a knife. He rushed toward the shaking midwife and pinned her to the wall.

“You saw nothing. You helped the lady give birth, it was a healthy child, and you will say nothing more. Understand?”

The terrified girl nodded quickly.

“Then go.”

He sighed. Keeping the secret of his, no not his, _this_ child was going to be a pain in the ass.

 

He had a feeling this cursing thing might become a new habit.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does anybody know how to pin stuff from tumblr onto Pinterest?
> 
> Like, preferably without all that coding stuff?
> 
> Thank you and have a nice day.


	3. Henry Is A Spicy Bean And His Family Mostly Sucks

Once upon a time, there was a very nice piece of land. On it was a nice manor. In the manor there was a tower, and in it was a little boy. Inside of the little boy was a burning hate for his life.

That is not a very healthy way to raise a child.

Also inside of the manor was an angry man who hated his son, a confused mother who was also angry (which is not a very good combination), and a bunch of confused, angry, and scared servants who milled around trying hard to do nothing.

To sum everything up, this was not a very happy home, and that was that.

The little boy sighed. He had a meeting with the ‘other peoples’. That's what he called them, since they couldn't possibly be the same kind of person as he was. Some of them were tall, and some were short. Some were fat, and some were … less fat than the others. They all had one thing in common: they were all loud.

His father was there, too. To observe, he said. To see how much he had grown. Even the boy could see how much he didn't mean it. It was almost refreshing to see someone put the dislike for him out in the open like that instead of hiding it behind giggles and whispers.

Almost.

It still hurt.

The only thing he could focus on during the meeting was his itchy wig. It was the most hideous thing he had ever seen, which was saying a lot, since he saw the new servant girls often. It was white and powdered with a ton of white powder and was almost twice the size of his face. He had to have it on every time he saw his father (or rather, his father saw him) or else he would “come after you like a cat on fire and eat you!”

He still didn't know if his sister had been kidding when she said that.

But he wasn't going to risk it.

During the meeting, the ‘other peoples’ chattered on loudly, just like always. They shot questions at him so fast, he only catched fragments of sentences, like “How many …” “Gallons” “ … Mackerel, but salmon is …” He was in a daze, really, and he had no idea what he had said.

All he knew was the fact that his father looked disappointed when they stepped out of the room, which could have meant he did amazing or he did terrible.

He sat in his room, watching the waves hit against the bottom of his tower. His tower was planted firmly in the sea floor, which gave him a beautiful view every morning out his window. He felt calm. Perfect. He had started to let his mind wander when his sister burst into his room.

“Thank god you're alright!”

He stared.

“Is there some reason I shouldn't be alright?”

“I had one of those dreams again, and you were in it … just … be careful, okay?”

She burst out the door again.

“Never mind, guys! He's okay!”

“Liza!” He called after her, but she was long gone after the stairs. Well. He tried to search for that little piece of peace again.

Meanwhile, outside the room, the lady was slowly climbing up the stairs that led to Henry’s room. She never meant any harm, not to her husband, or to her child. She just … he had been so handsome, and sweet, and warm, and her husband hadn't touched her since she had Elizabeth, and … then Henry happened, and he was gone. Zip.

She peeked into his room. He was staring at something outside his window, completely silent.

And then all she could focus on was his hair, his red, red hair, and …

“What?”

And that slightly annoyed face he made often and he looks exactly like what he tore away from me and he's my son and

No.

He is my enemy.

He must go.

And that was how a nine-year-old Henry happened to be flying into the ocean with his elephant pajamas, headed right for his death.

Like I said, not a very healthy way to raise a child.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I, TheNako, officially swear that I will include the word elephant in every single chapter/story I'll write from now on.


End file.
